There weren’t many places she could be, and if she’d left, I’d never forgive myself. Taking a long hallway beyond the bar, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard voices coming from a room right past the bathrooms.
That was until I heard, “You can’t help how you feel, Liv. None of us can. As much as that bastard hurt me, if he were to say he couldn’t live without me, I’d be in his arms in a heartbeat.”
“Really?”
“Really… and like you, I hate that I feel that way. The difference is, I learned how to move on, or pretend to at least… but you’re stuck. Maybe you guys need a break to figure things out?”
“Maybe.”
She wants a break?
No… I wouldn’t let that happen.
I should’ve turned and walked away, but while in some sort of trance my feet carried me closer on their own accord until I stood in the doorway, catching Kim’s attention.
“Shane,” she said, causing Alivia’s head to twist revealing two panic-stricken eyes.
While our gazes remained tethered, I asked, “Kim, can we have a minute?”
“Of course.” She scurried out of the room, and after a torturously long pause, I took the chair she had vacated.
“I’m… um…” Flicking my thumb toward the door, I said, “I’m sorry about all that out there.”
“It’s your new reality, Shane.” She looked down when she added, “You heard what we said?” I waited until she looked back at my face, and when she did defeat was obvious in her tired expression.
“I did. Is that what you want, a break?”
“I don’t know.” My disgusted grimace sparked a fire within those ice-blue eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Shane. You’ve been distant and withdrawn.”
“Yeah, because all I keep doing is hurting you. Over and over, you’re getting punched from every direction because of me.”
“I can handle that. You’re letting it change us. Let’s not pretend you aren’t.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong, Alivia.” I was far from confused about my feelings for her. “Nothing has changed for me. You know you’re all I want… all I’ll ever want.” How could she have lost sight of something so obvious? “But I’m now wondering if it’s you that doesn’t feel the same.”
She shook her head defiantly. “Of course I feel the same. I meant being confused about what’s happening in our lives. Things are changing. It’s no one’s fault that we weren’t prepared.” Her slender throat worked a swallow as she looked away from me again. This was killing her, and that killed me. “I no longer recognize who we are,” she added in a whisper I barely heard.
I knew she deserved better than the fucking nonsense she’d been force-fed these past few weeks because of me. If the bully bullshit and media blowups weren’t enough, now knowing she felt lost as to what her future held made it crystal clear what I should do. But the selfish prick I was refused to let myself go there… to acknowledge that she needed a break. At least not now.
“We’re both guilty of the same thing,” she said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, and you don’t want to hurt me. But somehow we’re hurting each other anyway.”
“No… we’re not. This will pass. It will pass.” This would not be how we ended up, drifting apart in a dank office with a hundred people I couldn’t give a shit about not forty feet away. “I’m ready to leave,” I practically growled. I was over this entire night. Without permission, I and snatched her hand, hauling her out. But instead of heading right toward the party, I headed left and pushed through the emergency exit. The blaring alarm served as an ironic siren to get the fuck out of there.
The entire time she stumbled along because of my frantic pace. “Where are we going?” she asked when I made no attempt to head around the building to where Alec’s car would be waiting. “Shane?” she prodded, but I remained silent.
Once we emerged from the alley, I rushed us toward the curb and hailed the first cab that came by. Opening the door, I ordered, “Get in.”
“We can’t just leave like that.”
“The fuck we can’t.” If she wasn’t going to get into the cab, I’d shove her in it myself. “Get in,” I repeated.
She did as I asked, and I slammed the door and ordered the driver to our destination. “What are we doing?”
“We’re finding ourselves.”
Several times during the ride she attempted to talk to me, but I just wasn’t ready. I did send a text to my parents, explaining we’d left the party and that we were fine. They weren’t happy I had ditched Alec and Ryan, but I’d worry about them later.
My priority was to deal with us. Having Alivia believe I was angry at her served my purpose well. I was sick of the emotionless void that had replaced her usual feistiness. I needed to know I hadn’t completely lost her. It would be the only thing to keep me going. It felt as though we were racing toward a cliff and neither of us knew if the fall was a shallow one or not.
I wasn’t even sure if it was anger I felt or sadness. Either way, the result came with an ache smack in the middle of my chest.
How the fuck did we end up here?
Despite her annoyed silence, she clutched my hand in a death grip as the concierge tapped away on his computer.
“Room 324.” He placed the key on the worn wooden counter while studying us with a narrowed glare—“Eighty-seven for the night”—and probably not trusting that we would pay at all forced him to snarl, “You need to pay up front.”
I peeled a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet, handed it over, and snatched the key to once again tug her along toward a waiting elevator.
It wasn’t the Plaza, or the Waldorf, but it would serve its purpose. We hadn’t had a moment of peace in far too fucking long, and our relationship now depended on it.
“Are you going to talk to me?” she asked the moment the elevator doors slid shut.
But not until I had us secured in our room did I finally hold her shoulders and say, “I need you, Liv. I need us. I don’t know what will happen when you start school in a few days, or after I leave. I can’t allow myself to go there. Right now, right here, I need you.”
“I need you too. I’ve always needed you. That’s part of the problem.”
When she broke our tethered gazes, I forced her eyes back to mine. “No. No more hiding from me.” Her silence pushed me to push her. “It’s only a problem if you make it one. You know I’ll support anything you choose to do… no matter what it is.”
“I don’t know what I want to do. I’m embarrassed that I have no idea who I am.” She hastily swiped at tears that rolled down her cheeks. “All I identify with is being Trey Taylor’s daughter… or Shane Lair’s girlfriend.” The sobs came harder, and I pulled her into my arms, hating every tear and cry she released.
“Shh, baby. I’m here. Don’t cry. I’ll always be here.”
“No, Shane… ,” she challenged, her voice muffled by the fabric of my T-shirt. “You can’t always be here, nor should you think that you have to be.”